Each ray of the setting sun dances with the black ripples of the water. I come here every time I need to be alone to just feel at peace with the world; feel serene. Or to take time to think, or let all my emotions run free. It's so beautiful this time of the evening; So I decided to paint. Subconsciously the brush gracefully glides across the canvas, perfectly replicating the reds and oranges into a portrait as I think in an artist's mind set. Whipping my head around at the sudden sound of a snapping twig, my focus is broken and my brush smears paint across my master piece. Cursing wildly and spinning around to confront the idiot who sneaks up on someone like that, I pause. "Who the hell is there?!" I yell. "What is this shit...?" Muttering as I round a bush, I find a girl crouched down trying to stay concealed. Looking up, her blue eyes pierce right through me. A piece of jet black hair falls across her icy gaze. Choking on my own words, I extend my hand to help her up. "D-do I know you?" I stutter. It's her… The one everyone has been talking about.
Dad knew of her, he had mentioned her name before. Why can't I remember it? My father is Sirius Black, he died when I was young. But it was an honorable death, and I was never mad at him for leaving me. However, one day, I will seek revenge on his killer. Bellatrix Lestrange. The Death Eater who took the life of my father. A tug on my arm snaps me out of my own mind. "I seriously doubt that." Snapped the strange girl as she gets to her feet. A long scar across her left jawline sticking out of her fair skin catches my eye.
"Wait… I do know you," I realize. "You're Charlotte, the daughter of Voldemort!" As if I offended her, she drew back, her face contorting.
"Don't –call me- Charlotte. It's Charlie, thank you very much." She spits out.
"I'd think you were the child of Tonks or something by saying that." I chuckle to myself. Tonks hates being called Nymphadora. She is practically my mother. Tonks and Remus basically raised me when Dad died. I never knew my mom. She left after I was born. I was never told why. One day I will find out the truth about my parentage. As far as I'm concerned though, Tonks and Remus count as my parents. Just like the Order. They are like my family. I grew up with them, after all. Extending my hand again, I say "I'm Thalia Black. It's a pleasure to meet you." She gingerly shakes my hand, and looks around. Noticing my painting, she sarcastically comments "Nice smear. It adds so much personality."
"Yeah, right? Thanks to –you-, my painting is ruined. It was turning out so beautiful too…"
Stalking over to my painting, she mends the smear with a series of colors, working it to fit right into the painting. "How did you…?" I ask in amazement. Snickering, she says "A witch never reveals her secrets, Blueberry."
"Hey! What's that for?" I ask, slightly offended.
"Well your hair –is- totally dark blue." Charlie jokes. I dyed my waist length hair a dark blue a few months ago. Rolling my eyes, I ask her what she is doing here.
"None of your business." She walks by me as if to dismiss me. Jogging to catch up, I say "I want to talk to you." This can't just be a coincidence meeting Charlie. I must talk with her at the very least. There is something more, there has to be. She can help me fulfill my utmost desire… My burning passion for the taste of revenge. That bitter sweet dessert at the end of every meal that is hatred. Sighing and sitting down, I wonder if its desperation I see cross her face for a split second, but it passed so fast I couldn't decide what it was.
"I'm on the run…" Head in her hands, I ask "Why are you running? And from whom?"
In a rush of anger she snaps, practically screaming, "Why should I trust you?!" Tears escape her sad eyes, making rivers of salt flow freely down her pale cheeks.
"Because I believe we have more in common than you think we do."
"I'm running from everything. The Order, the Death Eaters," I pause slightly, weighing how much to say, then add "Myself…" Thalia simply watches me speak while chewing on her hoop lip piercing with anticipation. I –hate- it when people play with their piercings.
"What happened?" she asks.
"Basically I betrayed the Death Eaters. The Order hates me and will never trust me because of my father. I just don't know what to do besides go for the only thing I want to do right now."
"And what's that?" A hint of curiosity and something else, like she is really hoping I'll say something she wants to hear, lies in Thalia's eyes as she speaks.
"To kill Voldemort," Taking a shaky breath, somehow feeling like I can trust this girl I add "To rid this world of He-Who-Shall-Not-Be-Named."
Taken aback and speechless, she tears from my gaze and stares into the fading light in the distance; gazing in an awe of its beauty. "Sounds like we both have the same goal." Says Thalia, looking down at her boots. "To get our revenge."
I look at her with a new found interest; as if a spark had just leapt to a burning flame. Rising to her feet she helps me up as well. "Walk with me." I say. "I have an idea. But you have to be willing to bend some rules. You game?"
"I think I know exactly what you're going to say." she says, a smile tugging at her reddened lips. "Come with me, my friend." Both wearing mischievous smiles walking towards our plan. We talk about our histories and why our goal. A friendship growing swiftly between us, bonded by our utmost desires in life, we spill the things we never before spoke aloud. It's strange, to have a friend. I've never really had friends. I was mostly feared as a child, and ended up being homeschooled by Naricissa Malfoy who took pity on me. I was bullied, picked on, cast out, feared; that kind of different that no one likes. I guess my childhood wasn't exactly "happy". Dad is the one who gave me the visible scar that represents the pain I've been through. I remember it like yesterday, too. I remember the sizzling of my nerves along my cheek created by my own father's wand. I remember the hot tears that burned my open wound. I remember the needle and thread that bound my wound; so gently handled by Naricissa. I remember that look on Dad's face…I'm not sure why I find it so easy to open up to Thalia… Trust is something I lack. You never know when someone will cut the thread of the knife hanging above your back. Even the ones you thought you loved.
The shack looming closer, we begin to plan how we will carry this out. "So I'm going to be hidden in the Shrieking Shack...?"
"Yeah. Several have hidden here, including my father. No one will find you here, plus it's only for a couple days."
"Well this should be interesting…" Sighing I decide to go through with the weak plan.
"Are you sure you will be alright out here on your own?" Thalia asks, looking like she really doesn't want to leave me out here. As if I'll take off, or something will happen.
"I've been on my own for months now, Thalia. I'll be fine. You'd better get back to the school before someone notices your absence."
"Yeah... You're right. I'll come to you tomorrow and we can talk further. Stay here, ok?"
After a nod of understanding, she takes off with an alarming speed. The shack is dusty and dark, and rather creepy, as if something out of a horror film, but not without a vague sense of homeliness. Not a 5 star hotel, but I've stayed the night in worse. As a matter of fact, I haven't stayed somewhere this decent in a long time. It'll be nice to have an actual indoor place to crash. Settling down on an old cot in the corner, blackness creeps into my vision and I slip from the real world, the nightmares taking over what could have been a restful sleep.